Page 195 of Fall of Giants (The Century 1)

"So now you do this. "

"I'm not very good at it. But some men are kind, like you. Others. . . " She shuddered and looked away.

Grigori finished his cigarette and got to his feet. "Good-bye. I won't ask your name. "

She got up. "Because of you, my family is still alive. " There was a catch in her voice. "And I don't need to go on the street again until tomorrow. " She stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips lightly. "Thank you, Sergeant. "

Grigori went out.

It was getting colder. He hurried through the streets to the Narva district. As he got farther away from the shopkeeper's wife his libido returned, and he thought with regret of her soft body.

It occurred to him that like him, Katerina had physical needs. Two years was a long time to go without romance, for a young woman-she was still only twenty-three. She had little reason to be faithful to either Lev or Grigori. A woman with a baby was enough to scare off many men, but on the other hand she was very alluring, or she had been two years ago. She might not be alone this evening. How dreadful that would be.

He made his way to his old home by the railway line. Was it his imagination, or did the street appear shabbier than it had two years ago? In the interim nothing seemed to have been painted, repaired, or even cleaned. He noticed a queue outside the bakery on the corner, even though the shop was closed.

He still had his key. He entered the house.

He felt fearful as he went up the stairs. He did not want to find her with a man. Now he wished he had sent word in advance, so that she could have arranged to be alone.

He knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

The sound of her voice nearly brought tears to his eyes. "A visitor," he said gruffly, and he opened the door.

She was standing by the fireplace holding a pan. She dropped the pan, spilling milk, and her hands went to her mouth. She let out a small scream.

"It's only me," said Grigori.

On the floor beside her sat a little boy with a tin spoon in his hand. He appeared to have just stopped banging on an empty can. He stared at Grigori for a startled moment, then began to cry.

Katerina picked him up. "Don't cry, Volodya," she said, rocking him. "No need to be afraid. " He quieted. Katerina said: "This is your daddy. "

Grigori was not sure he wanted Vladimir to think he was his father, but this was not the moment to argue. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He put his arms around them, kissed the child, then kissed Katerina's forehead.

He stood back and looked at them. She was no longer the fresh-faced kid he had rescued from the unwelcome attentions of Police Captain Pinsky. She was thinner and had a tired, strained look.

Strangely, the child did not look much like Lev. There was no sign of Lev's good looks, nor his winning smile. If anything, Vladimir had the intense blue-eyed gaze that Grigori saw when he looked in a mirror.

Grigori smiled. "He's beautiful. "

Katerina said: "What happened to your ear?"

Grigori touched what remained of his right ear. "I lost most of it at the battle of Tannenberg. "

"And your tooth?"

"I displeased an officer. But he's dead now, so I got the better of him in the end. "

"You're not so handsome. "

She had never said he was handsome before. "They're minor wounds. I'm lucky to be alive. "

He looked around his old room. It was subtly different. On the mantelpiece over the fireplace, where Grigori and Lev had kept pipes, tobacco in a jar, matches, and spills, Katerina had put a pottery vase, a doll, and a color postcard of Mary Pickford. There was a curtain at the window. It was made of scraps, like a quilt, but Grigori had never had any curtain. He also noticed the smell, or lack of it, and realized the place used to have a thick atmosphere of tobacco smoke, boiling cabbage, and unwashed men. Now it smelled fresh.

Katerina mopped up the spilled milk. "I've thrown away Volodya's supper," she said. "I don't know what I'll feed him. There's no milk in my breasts. "

"Don't worry. " From his sack Grigori took a length of sausage, a cabbage, and a tin of jam. Katerina stared in disbelief. "From the barracks kitchen," he explained.

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